


Not Until You Beg

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Drinking, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Obsession, Rough Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Silver has a beautiful ass, Submission Kink, Whipping, but not for each other, captain pining, envy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 08:06:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Jack and Silver bond over their mutual pining for their captains. Well, bond...is one term. Fuck is more accurate.





	Not Until You Beg

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the long ago prompt of Silver/Rackham. The exact wording of the prompt was:
> 
> "okay okay i usually plan these out like i open a word document and organize the pairings + the prompts. that way i can rmbr what i've already sent u BUT LISTEN this was not planned: “Oh no. Not until you beg.” but with silver/rackham?? will you write it? oh god please say yes."
> 
> I finally wrote it! Hope you enjoy it! <3

 

 

Jack swirls the rum around on his tongue and sets it down on the counter, bemoaning the lack of aptitude and accomplishment in this pitiful establishment. There are times he thinks about chucking it all in and going back to England to run an honest business, but then he gets the scent of the sea in his nostrils and the sight of a tempting brig bobbing upon the waves, and he knows he’ll never do anything else in his life. A pirate is what he’s meant to be and a pirate he shall be till his dying day. He’d prefer it if that day were a long ways off, naturally.

He takes another sip of rum and looks around the room. He doesn’t often actually look at the girls in the brothel. Anne while not extraordinarily emotional in some ways, in others is very true to form. She’s not exactly jealous of him with other women, she’s tried to explain that. She simply doesn’t like them getting close. “Can’t explain it more than that.”

There’s no need to explain more, Jack’s told her more than once. But there are moments in-between their occasional fucks, where he does, well, look. It’s not usually at the women, that’s the thing. Anne knows that too. But the man that Jack is oft thinking of, the man that comes to mind first when Jack looks, the man in his mind when his hand is between his legs, stroking his cock, is not his for the taking. It’s a sweet pining some days, and others it simply rankles.

There simply aren’t any other men that interest Jack, not as much. He’s long accepted that fact with resignation. There are times he can be intrigued though, and he is currently that by the presence of one John Silver.

The slim new cook aboard the Walrus is leaning on the counter talking to Max. She’s not amused, or she is amused but she doesn’t really want to show it. Jack squints, trying to read her. It’s not exactly his strong suit. Max is an enigma, and there are times that he definitely wishes she would disappear back to the hut of witchery she came from. At other times, he has to admit she’s a sound business partner and his assets are well protected in her hands.

He can think of other things that could happen with her hands, but Max is clearly not the remotest bit interested, and besides, for some odd reason, Jack does think Ann might not be all right with that. He leaves it alone.

His gaze drifts from Max back to the young cook. Silver’s standing there, hip cocked, resting his forearms on the bar as they talk. His is a pleasantly curved posterior and Jack finds his gaze lingering upon it. Yes, Silver has an exceptionally pleasing form altogether. He wonders if Flint’s realizes that yet, or if he’s still got his head buried deep in the sand.

Max ends the conversation and walks away, leaving Silver to mull over his drink. Jack watches as he takes a sip and then abruptly starts to leave.

Ah, well. Whatever half formed idea Jack had in his head, fades back into the nether and he sits back in his chair, still moodily sipping his rum.

 

*  *  *

 

He’s still there however when Silver returns ten minutes later, following hot at Flint’s heels. Flint strides ahead to the room most often used for meetings and once inside, shuts the door firmly behind him, causing Silver to jump back.

 For a moment Silver stands there, a disgruntled expression on his usually charming face. As one who tends to be charming himself, Jack finds himself wary of such a man. But then Silver happens to look up and see him sitting there in the corner. He hesitates, clearly at a loss whether to say something to Jack or merely walk away.

Jack raises his glass, gesturing him over. 

After another hesitation Silver comes over. He stands there beside the table, gazing at Jack evenly. “Afternoon.”

“Is it afternoon already?” Jack’s surprised yet again at the passage of time. “Well, so it is.” He nods at the rum bottle. “You might as well have a drink since you weren’t invited to the meeting.”

“You weren’t either I see.” Silver returns, but he sits, reaching for the rum bottle. There’s a spare glass and he takes advantage of it, pouring a small amount. He takes a polite sip.

Jack shrugs. “As it happens, no.” He doesn’t particularly want to dwell on that either. Someday Charles will see his worth for its true potential, but there are times that that day feels a long time in its coming.

He looks at Silver across the table. Silver’s eyes are on the door Flint closed in his face. It’s a little painful to see that familiar expression so openly displayed. Jack has to wonder if Silver’s even aware he’s doing it. He seems like the type who is usually aware of his countenance and surroundings at all times so to see him in a moment like this, vulnerable almost, is quite something. It makes Jack even more intrigued, and there’s nothing he likes more than being intrigued.

He leans a little on the table and takes a sip of rum. “He’s never going to see you.”

Silver jerks his head up, staring at him. “What?”

“You heard me.” Jack yawns. “You could be dangling yourself balls naked in front of him and he’d still walk straight past you with whatever aim he had fixed in his mind.”

Silver tilts his head, considering, gazing at him. “Are we talking about my captain still, or yours?”

Jack grins and raises his glass. “Touche.”

They drink in silence for a few minutes. But the itch that settled in when Jack first looked at Silver’s backside, the itch that noticed said backside, and the unfortunate but true inkling that Silver was probably just as starved for it as he is, propels Jack forward into speech once more.

“Are you going to wait all day for him?”

“I haven’t decided.” Silver’s maintaining his even tone. “We’re supposed to return to the ship to go over some matters.” He taps his fingers on the table, eyes drifting to the closed door once more.

“I have more rum in my room.” Jack stands. “If you’d rather wait elsewhere.”

Silver’s eyes trail upward, studying him, and then he nods and rises. This time he follows Jack, and Jack’s aware of it, all the way upstairs to his room.

 

*  *  *

 

“Make yourself to home.” Jack gestures once Silver’s inside the room.

Silver sits on the arm of the chair, watching him. So Jack plays the host, pouring them both cups of rum and handing Silver’s to his.

He leans against his desk, sipping his, his eyes dancing from Silver’s to the bed between them, and to Silver again.

Silver takes another drink of rum and looks at him straight on. “It seems to me that we have a mutual interest.”

“If that interest is getting fucked by our captains, I agree.” Jack murmurs, and then blinks at his own candor. Christ, is he more drunk than he thought? Usually he would never speak of such a thing. Only Anne knows of his deep rooted desire for Charles, and she would never betray him on that topic.

A smile slowly settles upon Silver’s catlike features. “Indeed. That.” He takes another sip of rum. “You had something in mind when you asked me up here.”

“Mmm.” Jack says carelessly. “Did I?”

Silver chuckles. “Shall we toss a coin for it?”

“What?”

“Who fucks who?”

Silver’s words are so careless, so accepting. Jack blinks again and looks at his rum. Have they already settled the fact that they are fucking, that they’ve moved so easily to who’s fucking? He decides to roll with it, and takes another drink.

“Be my guest.”

Silver reaches in his pocket for a coin and holds it out. “Heads or tails.”

“Tails.” Jack says, thinking of Silver’s backside, and how it will look bare upon his bed.

Silver smiles and tosses the coin high in the air. Jack follows it with his eyes, watches it land neatly in the center of Silver’s palm and meets Silver’s gaze as he looks up at him.

“Tails it is then.” Silver downs the rest of his rum and sets his glass down upon the table. “Where do you want me?”

“On the bed.” Jack says, nearly inaudibly, and then clears his throat. “Naked. On the bed, if you please.”

He hastily pours himself more rum as Silver strips off his clothes as requested.

Silver nude is even more distracting to the eye. Jack finds his appearance pleasing from head to toe, especially Silver’s cock.

“Turn around.” He says.

Silver does, showing him his bare rump. Jack tilts his head to one side, admiring it. Then he sets his rum down on the desk and approaches Silver. Moving in close behind him, he lets his hand drift down Silver’s back to settle on his ass cheeks.

“How do you want it?” He has ideas about how this should go, but he likes accommodating the other person, likes discovering people’s pleasures and desires. It might prove useful to know how Silver likes to be fucked in the future. One never knows when information will be valuable.

He pauses, and then he has an epiphany. “How would you want to be fucked if I were Flint?”

Silver draws in a quick breath. “I…I’d want you to tie me down and make me beg for it.” There’s a pained surrender to his words, as though he knows it’s too late now to hold himself back. Now that Jack knows his secret.

Jack smirks and leans in, squeezing one of Silver’s cheeks. “Get on the bed on your stomach.”

Silver obeys, and that alone makes Jack harden in his breeches. He gives himself a quick tug, adjusting himself, before he finds a belt to tie Silver’s wrists.

“How do you want to beg?” He says matter-of-factly. “Whipping or stroked till your shaft is stiffer than a yardarm?”

Silver shudders, half turning his head away from Jack. That’s no good. Jack reaches down to cup his jaw, forcing his head back to look up at him.

“Tell me, or I’ll decide for you then.”

Silver stares up at him. “I want you to beat me.”

Jack waits.

Silver swallows, licking his lips. He closes his eyes with a pained expression before opening them again. “Please, sir, I want you to beat me.”

Jack feels the grin curling upon his lips, feral and cold. He nods and releases Silver’s jaw. He turns away to discard his coat and decide upon the proper implement for discipline.

He decides upon a cane, left in his room from previous times. He swishes it through the air, watching Silver’s head turn to follow the motion, watching his eyes darken, his body tense in anticipation.

“Count the strokes.” Jack raps out the command and Silver nods.

~crack~

“One.” Silver’s voice is steady and Jack resolves to make him whimper before they’re finished.

He brings the cane down upon Silver’s pert buttocks, watches them break into a bright flush of response.

~crack~

“Two.”

~crack~

“Three.” Silver spreads his legs a little and Jack’s gaze darts between his legs, trying to see how aroused he is. As for himself, he’s already hard, cock tenting the front of his breeches, ready for plundering, but he wants Silver ready for it before he fucks him. Flint would do no less.

He brings the cane down in a quick series of blows, barely giving Silver time to say the strokes, and when they hit ten, he pauses, and there’s faintest breath of a sob when Silver murmurs.

“Ten.”

“Mmm.” Jack moves to stand directly behind the bed. “Spread your legs.”

Silver moves them a fraction apart.

“Wider.” Jack commands. “Show your hole to me.”

He watches Silver’s body react to the order, watches Silver spread his legs, striving to part his reddened cheeks as best as he can with his hands tied. It shouldn’t make Jack so hard to pretend to play at Flint, to think of his cock being where Flint’s cock should be, but it does. His cock is swelled with the envy and lust of it.

He’s going to fill Silver with his seed and leave him dripping with it, and by the time Flint comes to and realizes Silver’s hungry for him, it’ll be too late, Jack will have been there first.

He pushes the end of the cane against Silver’s hole, watching Silver tense at the feel of it. “What if I fucked you with this? Hmmm? What if I used the cane instead of my cock.”

Silver mumbles something into his pillow and Jack pushes the tip warningly against his hole. “Lift your pretty head and tell me how you want to be fucked, before I cane you well and proper.”

His cock’s throbbing in his drawers at the authority in his own voice. Christ, he likes this. What if he were truly a captain of his own making one day? No, that’s disloyal to Charles…But is it? To aspire to more, to seek more grandeur in the world? Is it wrong to want more from the world?

Silver lifts his head. “I want your cock in me. I want you to fuck me, captain.”

Jack shoves the clenched fist against his mouth to stifle the groan rising out of him at being called captain. The damp patch at the crotch of his breeches betrays his anticipating pleasure, but he can still fuck Silver and fuck, he intends to do just that.

He sets the cane aside and thinks about undressing, but Flint wouldn’t. Flint would only draw his cock out and fuck quick and furiously, getting his satisfaction and buttoning his breeches back up before the poor sod under him was even close to coming.

He moves onto the bed, kneeling between Silver’s legs as he draws his dick out. He nudges Silver's thighs even wider apart. It has to be uncomfortable but Silver doesn’t complain. Jack smears oil from the bottle in the desk over Silver’s hole, hesitating a moment, and then pressing a finger inside him. He barely manages a few stretching strokes before Silver makes a low moan.

“Please.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Jack inquires casually.

“Please.” Silver whispers, trying to leave it at that.

"Oh no," Jack reminds him. "Not until you beg for it."

SIlver shudders again, and then, finally forces the words forth from his tongue. “I want…” he swallows again. “Please, just fuck me. I want it to be rough.”

Jack bite down his lower lip. Fuck Silver knows how it would be like with Flint, knows how rough such a captain would be.

“Very well.” He says carelessly.

He slicks his cock and then positions himself, holding Silver’s tender ass wide open for him. He gazes in wonder as he watches Silver taking his cock, the way it thrusts inside him.  The spirit of Flint inhabits his shaft, and Jack lets it, thrusting steadily, watching himself sink more fully inside Silver’s heat.

Silver’s moaning, low desperate grunts with every thrust.

“You like that?” Jack murmurs, rocking his hips. “You like how my cock feels inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Silver pants. “Yes, I like how you it feels, captain.”

“But you don’t deserve it, do you?” Jack gives a balls deep thrust and Silver’s moan is guttural that time.

“No, no, I don’t, captain. I don’t deserve to be touched by you.”

“But you want it.” Jack thrusts as deeply, striking the spot that makes Silver gasp. His hands are clenched tightly within the belt’s binding.

“Fuck, yes, yes.”

“Do you want to come?” Jack somehow manages to hold himself back, withdrawing all the way, letting his aching cock throb above Silver’s hole, waiting for him.

“Yes.” Silver whimpers. “Yes, captain, I want to come, Please let me come, Please.”

Jack waits.

“Please, captain, please let me come.” Silver half sobs the words.

Jack licks his lips, and then thrusts all the way inside Silver.

Silver shouts hoarsely as Jack fucks him into the thin mattress. He doesn’t touch Silver’s dick; Flint wouldn’t. He simply lets Silver spill helplessly upon the blanket underneath them, lets him continue to clench achingly around Jack’s cock until his ass has squeezed every last drop of seed out of Jack’s body.

Jack’s limp, all playacting and pretending gone from his body. He wants to roll off Silver and sleep for a week.

Instead, somehow he slips out of him, and leans against the bed for a moment to steady himself. Then he wipes himself off with his handkerchief and refastens his breeches. Smoothing a hand through his hair he considers the sight before him on the bed. Silver's exquisite like this, flushed cheeks, Jack's come dripping out of him.

Silver’s turned his head to look up at him, waiting.

Jack purses his lips, “Get up then.”

He watches as Silver pushes himself up on his knees, glances between his legs to see his spent cock, yes Silver definitely came. Good, good. Then he tosses the handkerchief covered in his spunk at Silver, watching it hit his stomach and fall to the mattress.

“Clean yourself up, have a drink if you need it and get back to the ship.” He picks up his coat, pulls it on and goes to the door. He’s halfway through the doorway when Silver speaks again.

“Rackham.” Silver’s voice is low.

Jack turns back to look at him.

Silver’s rubbing his wrists as he slips free of the belt, but he still raises his eyes to meet Jack’s gaze. “Thank you.”

Jack grins, his own grin this time, the spirit of Flint be damned. “The next time you’re in port…”

Silver nods.

Jack half bows. “I look forward to it.”

And as pleasing as this little game was, maybe next time he’ll fuck John Silver as himself, his own cock doing the deed. Yes, Jack thinks as he strides along, a tune rising to his lips as he makes his way back downstairs. His own cock is good enough, and maybe one day he'll be captain even.


End file.
